THE ONLY PROBLEM with storming out of your own house for dramatic effect is that afterward you can't go back, and you have to go somewhere, but sometimes you can't justify the third Starbucks drink of the week when you still owe your cousin sixteen hundred dollars.

Which leaves little options of where to go next, especially when I have like three friends, and honestly, Nat's the only one I actually like. And that leaves me knocking on her door, still wrapped up in Noel's hoodie that smells too much like the man himself to be any sort of comfort against the spring air. There's a lingering knot tight in my throat when the door is pulled open to reveal the disheveled blonde mess of hair that is Nat.

She's rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, a yawn spilling from her lips before anything else. "Vika? Sorry, saw you called, was mid-puking my internal organs out, what's up?"

"What's up? What's up with the fucking fish more like it. How did she even get a fish in my apartment? Did she Mission Impossible her way inside? What am I supposed to do with a fish, Nat?"

Her green eyes widen at the word-vomit that's been rapidly building inside of me on the trip over. Her mouth opens to answer, but then either thinks better or finds nothing to say, and instead she steps to the side and gestures towards the living room. I all but barge through the doorway inside.

Mark's completely enveloped in Nat's pastel pink comforter, cuddled up on one side of the couch and peeking out at my entrance. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the uncharacteristic grimace on his face, he's probably suffering a similar fate to Nat. Still, my empathy is short-lived as I dump myself next to him, arms crossed over my chest.

"Your sister is actively destroying my life, Mark. Genuinely taking a massive crap all over it. I'm taking hours after a lunch break at Chipotle proportions."

He sniffs. "Just agree. Your life will be so much easier if you just agree."

I throw a pointed look to Nat, who's collapsing into one of the offset recliners. "This is why you agreed to marry him, isn't it?"

"Well, that and obviously his massive di-"

"Alright, I'm here to talk about the fish, and also I slept with Noel, but that's second to the intruder in my house. Or, Mark's house. My life," I amend with a huff, breath short, an anxious buzzing under my skin.

Nat's unfazed by my dramatics, but arches a brow at Noel's name. "Why are you here, then? Shouldn't you be drowning in post-sex bliss right now? I mean, you're the one that wanted this."

My stomach churns at the thought. Instead, I heave a tired sigh, shoulders tense, unresolved frustration prickling at the back of my neck.

"Cecilia has a key to my house," Mark croaks out for explanation, "There's probably fish food in one of the cupboards. Like I said, just agree."

"None of those are appropriate reactions to what I'm saying here, oh my god. There's a fish that I must now take care of because you," I say, pointing to Nat, "insist on trying to make Mark's mom like you and you," now I'm pointing to Mark, "had to go and have a sister. Both of you, terrible job. Zero out of ten."

I'm swallowing a bitter dryness that's unfurled on my tongue. Dark eyes are flashing in the back of my mind.

There's a split-second where I wonder if he'll follow me where, through the process of elimination and my lack of funds I'm sure he could guess I am, but then realize that the thought is probably mine alone. I'm not even sure if I'd want him to, either. Not that I'm an excellent judge of character for what I want, apparently.

"I'm pretty hungover, but I don't think you're making any sense. Please translate this Vika speak into normal people talk." Nat's rubbing her forehead, nose crinkled, tired notes weighing down her voice.

"I don't have a house or a legitimate career or even any prospects for the future. How am I supposed to take care of a fish, Nat?"

There's a beat of quiet, where Mark has once again poked his head out of his blanket cocoon with half-coherent concern, and Nat's green gaze is searching my face. Then she's nodding her head with a hum.

"Alright, this I can translate. You're freaking out about what the fish means, I get it. Mark go pour us some coffee, I already made a pot." She waves off the man, gaze never straying from mine.

He makes a noise of protest. "What? Why? I like it here, I'm barely over the spins."

"Coffee, babe. Two milk, one sugar. Please and thank you." Nat's sharp gaze snaps to him.

Whatever room left for argument in her voice is immediately murdered by her eyes, and Mark's surrendering himself to a standing position, still draping the blanket over his shoulders with a stubborn determination that trails after him on his way out. I'm watching with mild curiosity until Nat snaps her fingers in my face and steals my attention.

"You're spiralling," she says, brows raised. "What's up? Why're you all heated all of a sudden? If it's about a place, I can help you find somewh-"

"That's it!" I cry out, hands shaking. "I'm twenty-four years old and I still need everyone to hold my hand through being a proper adult! I mean, I can't keep playing the orphan card-"

"It's a pretty reasonable card to have, Vi," she interjects.

I sigh, murky thoughts of my parents from years ago circling my head like morbid blue birds, shoulders dropping just as fast as my will to keep going. But I defiantly shake my head of them. "You helped me get the job, Mark's letting me stay at his place, these pants- Nat, these are Cavalli."

Her eyes widen to saucers, voice dropping. "Vika, did you steal those?"

"No!" I snap, scalp prickling at the accusation, more because it almost feels as if I have. "They're Noel's sister's, he let me borrow them. But that's what I mean, what am I even doing here? Hanging out with Noel in Mark's apartment, staring at fish, what's even happening? How is Mark of all people funding this surreal life of mine?"

As if on cue, Mark steps through the doorway, the blanket still superman-style on his shoulders and two mugs of piping hot coffee in his hands, steam coiling about the rims. He pads over to gently place the cups on the coffee table and throws me a small smile.

"Alexei's grandma owns the place, that's why we got such a good deal on it. You seriously don't have to worry about rent or anything. I mean, I'd keep it, but Nat and I agreed to live closer to both our work. You're not putting me out at all, but, uh, Alexei has someone new moving in the first of next month."

Mark's face is tight as if it pains him to kick me out of his own apartment that he still funds despite stepping through only a couple times a week, and it probably does, which pinches at my heart even more. He falls back next to me on the couch and I draw a deep breath.

"No, no, stop being so nice. I'm going to find my own place- alone. Without your help, or Nat's help, or N-"

My tongue's in place to finish the name, but the air is cut short in my throat, stopped by something I'm not quite sure, and I let it die instead. Nat's eyes are drinking me in, scrutinizing in a way that's familiar after all these years, probably better versed in my micro expressions than even I am. I try to smooth my face out. There's knowing to know.

"Did you up and run out? Did you even say anything to Noel or did you book it?" Nat asks, reaching to grab one of the steamy mugs and cradling it with both her hands. The accusation is softened by her eyes. "Does Noel even know you're here?"

I push my tongue against the inside of my cheek. "Well, uh, yes?"

Mark shifts next to me, perking up at the mention of his best friend. "Did you just leave him confused?"

"Well, confused probably. Generally unimpressed with my existence, more likely," I admit, wrinkling my nose. "I left on... weird terms. I don't know."

"Is he okay?" Mark asks, piqued interest settling him into a more upright position.

"Well, I mean, I guess so," I say, shrugging. "Probably."

"No- did he look okay, Vika? Are you sure? Did you see?"

As Mark's interrogating gaze drills into me, I parch, sputtering out some more semi-coherent reassurances, drowning in maybe and probably and hesitance. There's an intensity that I'm unfamiliar with on his face.

Nat clicks her tongue, catching my attention in a way that's a small breath of relief. She's fixing Mark with a pointed stare. "Hey, it's fine. No reason to use the third degree. He's an adult, a really weird one, but still over the age of twenty-five. He'll be okay." She shoots me a small smile of camaraderie.

My head tilts back. "Weren't you the one that wasn't on board with me talking to him in the first place?"

"Don't think this is getting you out of grandpa duty, Vika," she says, grinning. "You'll be hearing stories about mother Russia until you're literally begging for ol' Vlad to poison you out of your misery."

I turn my head when a troubled sigh falls from Mark's mouth, who's rubbing small circles into his temples. "You guys don't get Noel, okay?"

"There's nothing to be troubled over," I reassure him, flashing him a brief smile. "Seriously, he was busy with work. Anyway, if you mentioned it, I don't even think he'd remember."

At this point, I'm unsure of who I'm really trying to convince.

Mark doesn't seem entirely persuaded, but that could be the leftover tequila that's still making its way through his system, and only relents with a soft grunt. I can't help the prickle of curiosity in the back of my throat.

"Why do you think he'll care so much?"

The words feel awkward in my mouth, and when I catch Nat's eye we both know there's more to my question than what's on the surface, but I don't add any follow up.

"It's Noel," Mark says as if it's answer enough itself, which to someone who is continually bewildered by every single interaction with the man is not, but Mark adds nothing else. Instead, he pushes the covers off of him and lifts to his feet, stretching, and says, "I'm gonna go call him."

"Or," Nat cuts in, dragging it out with a small smile. "You could also go over there, since I don't think Vika wants to go back to your place tonight." She's still holding the mug with both her hands and takes a small sip. "Only a suggestion."

Mark freezes, frowning. "But we were supposed to watch Love Actually tonight."

I snort, and Nat reaches over to give me a chastising smack on the arm.

"Babe, we'll watch it tomorrow, I promise," she assures him, and he's still wearing that injured look, but nods.

As he treks out of the room, I have to distract myself with my own mug of coffee to stop from bursting out laughing.

"I'm really going to find a place, I promise. All on my own," I tell Nat once I've sobered up a bit, and take a small, relieving sip of caffeine. "Without any of your guys' help."

She raises her brows at me, sending me a look over her mug. "And this is only about the place? That's it? Nothing else on your mind?"

I shake my head, gaze snapping to the floor. "What are you talking about?" I tsk, waving her off. "This is completely about the place, and that's it."

She hums as if she isn't entirely convinced, but she drops the subject and picks up the remote that's next to her instead. I'm shifting in my seat when she flicks on an episode of Friends, and I ignore the way that her question lingers, breathing on the back of my neck.

It's as Mark's waving us goodbye in the doorway, reminding us that there's leftover pizza in the fridge when I feel an unusual vibration against my thigh. My gaze immediately snaps to Nat, but she's distracted by blowing her fiancé a kiss. My heart does a double-tap when I lift my phone to see a familiar name written across it.

Fed the fish and left the apartment. You can come back.

A precarious swirl of emotion rises in my chest, and I stare at Noel's message, reading it three times in a row before it even begins to make any sense to me. Nat mentions something about going to get some pizza from the kitchen, but it sounds too far away to matter. I frown.

I'm really sorry for freaking out, I don't kn|

Pause. Erase.

The fish thing was weird, sorry about tha|

Pause Erase.

Thanks man. Appreciate it.

I consider sending a smiley face for good measure, but figure that it probably doesn't matter to Noel anyway, and click send.